


Good God They're On A Bus

by Morrigan2345



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, F/M, M/M, Public Sex, School Bus Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Teen Derek Hale, Unsafe Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 04:30:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4377281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morrigan2345/pseuds/Morrigan2345
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They do it on the Bus, and then in a motel, kind of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good God They're On A Bus

Stiles Stilinski is fucking _pumped._

He is so goddamn ready for this field trip to the wolf sanctuary, and looking around his fellow Environmental Science classmates are to. 

Even Boyd is looking fucking ecstatic, well his face isn’t as tight and stoic as it usually is and he’s actually talking to Lahey, who in turn is looking like all his wishes came true.  Which they probably have because now Erica is sliding in next to them and wow, Stiles has never seen anyone turn that red before.  When Erica’s hand starts to run up and down Isaac’s thigh he looks quickly away because as much as he’d like to be in that sandwich, awkward boners aren’t the best when driving in a small and cramped school bus for four hours. 

So he turns away from that particular show to ask Scott where he’d like to sit, only to find him next to Allison Argent already.

Now, Stiles, being the best bro to ever bro, is going to let this one slide because Scott actually looks determined as fuck to talk to Allison this time, and Allison looks pretty happy to.  Stiles is not going to ruin this for his best bro and possible(who’s he kidding it’s Scott, so definite)-future-best-bro’s-girl even though him and Scott have been sitting next to each other for the past ten years, he does have morals, thank you, dad.

Anyway, the point is Stiles _is_ going to man up and sit next to Greenburg if he has to, but when he turns back to the inside of the bus he finds, well, he finds nothing. 

Nothing is open, every single fucking seat in this goddamn bus is taken and holy god if he has to sit next to _Finstock for four hours-_

“Bilinski!” speak of the devil and he will come.

“Yes coach?” he says turning around to see the older man’s eyes looking ready to bulge out of his skull

“Why are you not sitting in a seat, we have to leave in- Frank! How long till we have to get going?” the last part is yelled and Stiles, who still after about four years of knowing and being taught under this man, is not ready for that this early in the morning.  His ears are still ringing when he hears a faint _5 minutes, cupcake,_ “Did you hear that kid?  5 minutes!  Now get your butt in a bus seat before I throw it out a window.  Your butt I mean, I wouldn’t be able to throw a bus seat out a window.  Now,” he says turning away, “where’s Greenburg, I need him to-“

“Coach wait!” Stiles says quickly and he’s not prepared for the man to whip around and catch him by the shoulders.

“Oh god no, Bilinski, not now you can’t do this now-“

“Coach, what are you doing?”

There’s a pause and Finstock looks deep in thought before clapping him on the shoulder roughly and- oh god, wiping his eyes, “What is it?” he says equally as rough

“Just uh- what was, actually you know what never mind, but um there are no open seats left, coach.” And he swipes his arm through the air, indicating the whole bus, almost hitting both Scott, Jackson, and Kira in the head by doing so.

“Watch it, spaz.” Jackson grumbles and Scott, out of his daze from talking to Allison (who is now talking to Lydia behind her), says something under his breath that makes Jackson get up angrily, shoving Lydia’s purse back at her.

“You wanna fucking go, McCall?” he says and takes Scott by the collar

Scott grips Jackson’s wrist and forearm but looks straight into the other boys eyes, “If you keep being a dick to my best friend then yeah, lets fucking go.” But before anything really damning can happen Finstock is there, holy hell that man moves like the night, blowing his whilst in both of their ears.

Stiles cringes, and he can see Boyd, Isaac, and Erica all do to, because if his human ears find that glass shattering he can’t imagine what it’s like for werewolves.

“McCall!  Whittemore!  Did you two just make me watch a teenage boy measuring contest?”

“Oh gross, coach, that just sounds so wrong, and-“

“Whittemore!  I swear to all that is holy I will suspend both of-“

“Coach! Oh God, we’re so sorry, I’m sorry, it won’t happen again- please just,” oh no, the puppy dog eyes, get him Scott, “I was really looking forward to this trip Coach, please.” He can see the Finstock’s face soften and he knows Scott won.

“Alright kid just- Whittemore!  You aren’t cute and cuddly like McCall here so you move where Cora is sitting at the back.”

“But coach I can’t sit next to Derek!” Jackson says quickly

“Why not?”

“I have a restraining order against him.”

“Whittemore, you have a restraining order against half this bus.” Finstock huffs, who even huffs in real life?

“Coach.” The worst sound in the world is Jackson whining so he can’t really fault Coach for caving quickly.

“Alright let me think.” He surveys the bus a couple of times before his eyes land on Stiles, “Bilinski! Get over here.”

Stiles walks slowly to where they all are, the middle of the bus, “Yeah coach?”

“Ok, so you, Bilinski, go take Cora’s seat, she’ll sit next to Lydia, and then Jackson will sit next to me and Greenburg.”

There’s a pause, before three, individual, voices pipe up.

“Sir, can I just-“

“Coach, please god, not-

“Derek, I really don’t want to sit next to that she-devil.”

“First!” Finstock shouts over all of them, “Bilinski, this deals with your nowhere to sit problem, also you’ll be able to sit next to your-“

“Good Lord, coach, please just _stop_ -“

“Second!” he yells again, this time just over a tomato faced Stiles, he can _sense_ Isaac snickering behind him, “Whittemore, not a word out of you, you’re the one that started this whole thing.” He says which effectively shuts Jackson up.

“Third!” he yells once more, before looking around to see Cora already next to him, “Oh, uh, well.”

“It’s not the end of the world, coach.  As long as she doesn’t talk to me I’ll be fine.” She says and looks over at Lydia, who just flips her hair and goes back to talking with Allison.

Finstock nods and points to her, “Why can’t you be more like her.” He asks Jackson, who grumps something back, before taking his bag and flopping into the front seat, sitting as far as possible from Greenburg, poor kid just looks confused.

“Uh coach,” he whispers and looks back at the ball of gloom in the back seat, “I can’t-“

“Can’t what?” and Stiles shuts his mouth so fast his teeth click, Finstock looks absolutely murderous

“Um- Uh, n-nothing, sir.” He stammers and Finstock gives him one last glare before stomping back to Jackson and Greenburg, he pushes at Jackson, which makes the boy bump into Greenburg, and signals Frank back inside from where he was taking a break.

He gets his bag from the front where he left it and see’s Frank step on a cigarette and make his way back to the bus.  As Frank enters Stiles is already stumbling towards the back of the bus, keeping his eyes down.  When he gets to the middle he looks up at Scott who’s looking back with half terror and half- Jesus Scott, you fucking romantic, half _hope_.

The thing about him and Derek, he thinks idly as he makes his way to the end of the bus, ignoring everyone, including Frank the Bus Driver, is that they really don’t hate each other as much as people think they do.  After the whole my best friend and half the people I know got either turned into werewolves or were born werewolves freak out and after the Oh god my best friend the werewolf is crushing on a girl whose family wants to _kill him_ fiasco him and Derek, well maybe not _bonded_ per se, but they got closer.

They don’t really talk, their whole thing is Stiles being in love with the grump from afar and Derek being annoyed with Stiles when he and him are shoved together in death type situations, which are more common now that werewolves are a thing in his life. 

They make it work.

Kind of.

(His dad says it’s unhealthy, but Cora just calls him stupid a lot, so maybe there’s something-)

“Are you going to sit down?” a voice ( _grumpygrumpygoodgodyouarecutegrumpy_ ) breaks through his thoughts and Stiles looks down into Derek Hale’s crazy ass eyes.

Fucking, he’s too pretty-

“Uh, yes- yeah, lemme just-“

And that’s when Frank the Bus Driver, who was having some trouble starting the bus finally gets it to start.

Unfortunately for the bus’s occupants, but mostly for Stiles and Derek, the bus lurches forward, causing mild panic and a few shouts. 

“Is everyone alright?” Finstock yelled and gave no one anytime to respond before he started yelling at Frank.

 _Me!_ Stiles thought helplessly, gripping uselessly at Derek’s tensed thighs, _I just head butted the love of my life in the dick!  I am not alright!_

Derek’s body was curled over, an obvious response to your dick getting hit with a fucking _head, Jesus Christ-_ But in doing so he was pressing Stiles face closer and closer to his groin.

Stiles had a few things going through his head as this proceeded, Derek’s pained groans near his ear, a list;

_I fucking head butted him in the dick, holy fucking shit!_

_My face has literally never been this close to someone else’s dick._

_My face is a millimeter from Derek’s dick._

_Holy Fucking Shit, Oh My Fucking God Why Is This Happening To Me?_

_He’s going to break my neck, either now if he doesn’t stop pushing down or later when he realises that I FUCKING HEAD BUTTED HIM IN THE DICK!_

_I’m going to suffocate because of Derek’s pelvis._

_Not the worst way to go._

“Oh my god!  Derek not on the Bus, you freak!”

“Cora, shut the fuck up.” he can feel Derek’s teeth grind, literally, he can feel when his jaw clenches, it’s the weirdest and best fucking feeling ever.

Under other circumstances he’d not want to move for a while, but as stated above-

“Dude- Please-“ he squeaks and he’s shoved away not a second later

He’s catching his breath, and he can hear Derek doing the same, when Finstock’s (Goddamn Fucking Finstock, always) voice makes him snap up.

“That was one hell of a show-“

“Stop _saying_ things like that!  You’re going to get fired!”

“Sit down, Whittemore!  But now that you two are done please sit back down so I can go see some damn wolves.” And with that Finstock sits back down with an air of finality

Stiles turns back to Derek, who’s back to sitting on the bus seat but with his head tilted back onto the seat, there’s a thread of pain going through his expression but he seems sort of alright by now.  He’s thinking about what to say (does he apologize?  Probably should, but he thinks the time has passed and now it would just be awkward and bring attention to the fact the Stiles had his face _this close_ to Derek’s dick.  Yeah, he’s gonna remember that one for a while), when Derek’s eyes open and drift over to him.

“Just sit down, Stilinski.”

He can feel his eyes widening and he nods his head quickly, lost for words, Derek might not maim him yet.  Maybe he’ll even see a wolf or two.

Clearing his throat he tries to position himself in a way that has him touching Derek in the least amount possible, trying to give Derek some space, but, unfortunately, this particular seat is the type that advertises being a two seater but in actuality it’s very much a single one.

He kind of ends up in Derek’s lap.

Not completely, but well, his one leg is thrown, actually thrown because Frank the Bus Drive hits a pothole head on and because God is not real, over Derek’s, and his elbow is catching the guy in the gut each time there’s a turn.

Derek is starting to look like he’s contemplating murder more than usual.

“Coach!  We can’t fit in this seat, please just-“

“Bilinski!  What did you say?”

“Me and Derek can’t fit-“

“How did Cora and him fit before?”

“Cora is a lot smaller than me coach, I’m literally sitting on his lap here!”

“Nothing I can do now kid, we’re on a moving bus it’s not safe.”

“This isn’t safe!”

“Nothing I can do!”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s-“ he pauses and looks back at Derek, which means he kind of shifts his head and him and Derek are inches apart, “um.”

“It’s fine.” But he looks-

“You look like you wanna kill me though, or kill yourself.”

At this Derek looks out the window, and- wow is he-

“Are you blushing?” Stiles asks slowly, for himself mostly because _cute_ -

“…leg.” Derek says but Stiles wasn’t paying attention,

“What sorry I didn’t catch-“ he tries to ask but Derek cuts him off with a sigh, he grips Stiles leg and- oh

“Your leg’s kind of…” he says through gritted teeth but he doesn’t shove Stiles off of him or punch him, he- Oh

_Oh my-_

A second later there’s a bit of a dip in the road and Stiles’ leg _shifts_ and Derek-

Derek fucking _groans._

“Oh _shit._ ” He says sharply and Derek closes his eyes

“I’m really fucking sorry, just-“

Stiles stops listening, mostly because he can feel Derek’s _hard as nails boner_ through both of their jeans, and because Derek’s being dumb, as usual.

“You’re so dumb.” He tells Derek in a matter of fact voice and lifts his leg off, Derek looks crushed, either because of Stiles supposed rejection or the loss of the apparent, unintentional, leg job he was just giving.

(His first sexual encounter with another person other than his hand and it it’s a fucking _leg job._  What the fuck is even a leg job, he doesn’t think that’s the official term anyway.)

Well, Stiles is not here for either of these things.

He quickly looks over the whole bus, no one is looking backward, and then he turns slightly to his left and freezes-

Erica is staring at them, eyebrow raised.

They have a silent conversation with their eyebrows as Derek keeps on apologizing.

_Pleasepleasepleaseplease_

_In exchange?_

_Econ homework?_

_Math._

_You’re the devil, you know that?_

_Yeah, but you still love me._

They both turn to their own seat partners, everything being dealt with.

“Derek.” He says, and wow- his voice is a little wrecked, apparently semi-public (actually no, scratch that- really fucking public) sex does it for him, at least it shuts Derek’s apologizing up. 

“Stiles?” he sound fucking hesitant, Stiles is going to _die-_

“Just- I want-“ and he climbs onto Derek’s lap and grinds his ass _down_.

He’s really glad that Frank the Bus Drive decided to play some loud as hell (well, reasonably loud) music because Derek groans again and Stiles can feel it travel through his body.

“You gotta-“ Stiles says haltingly, “you gotta be quite or- or” and he can’t even finish the sentence because he feels Derek’s hands go under his ass and he shoves his own pants down and Stiles’, slightly, not all the way for his whole dick to be exposed but just enough that Stiles to feel it’s heat.

It’s not enough though, Stiles wants this to be _good-_

He turns around as quickly, safely, and quietly as he can, so his knees are braced on either side of Derek’s hips, hitting the back of the seat and sitting more firmly in Derek’s lap.

When he looks at Derek the other boy looks red and frustrated.

Stiles feels that.

Spiritually and physically.

He’s really got to fix that.

They go over another pothole, making their clothed dicks rub up together, eliciting somewhat pained groans from both of them because fuck the friction and angles are good but shit he should have brought some fucking lube.

“Fuck Derek- I don’t have-“ and stops because something is being thrust into his hand, and it’s not what he was expecting either, given the circumstances on where they are and where they’re going.  “How did you even-?”

And Derek snorts a little, cupping the back of Stiles head and dragging him closer making Stiles clutch at his chest, the bottle of unopened lube and condoms almost falling out of his hand, “I’m a fucking werewolf, I’m always prepared.”

“I think the saying is Boy Scout- oh god, wait, werewolf- like half of the people in this bus are werewolves that can, you know, hear and smell us.” Stiles says worryingly because as much as werewolves are shameless and in each other’s pockets there is a line, even for them.

(Maybe not Stiles, though, now that he’s thinking about it, but then there’s an image of Scott and well- maybe if Scott- he amends, maybe if there’s no Scott or Cora there he’d be down.)

“They’re all a little-“ and then he looks grossed out, which when sitting in the boy you’ve been crushing on since forever’s lap, not the best time, but then he say, “-occupied.” In a voice that will haunt him forever because again too much Scott in that sentence.

“Oh, so they can’t-?”

“Not unless you cry out.”

Stiles raises an eyebrow at the other boy because seriously? 

“I’m the one in your lap, I think it’d be you screaming.” The other boy snorts and Stiles grins, this fucking kid makes him crazy, “My ass is that fucking amazing alright, I’ll have you know I can fit like four fingers up there like, no problem.” And he winks at Derek who-

“Oh man, are you ok?” he says with mock sincerity and waves a hand in front of Derek’s kind of slacked and glazed face, “I didn’t break you already did I?” which makes Derek break out of whatever retrieve he’d been in a moment ago (he’d been thinking about Stiles amazing ass because it _is_ amazing and Derek can’t even _lie_ because Stiles _knows_ that Derek’s into him _and_ his amazing ass) and snatches Stiles hands out of the air, which is fine because a second later he’s bringing them to his chest and wow, fucking Derek Hale, everyone, best fucking chest to ever chest. 

“Fuck, Derek.” And now that Stiles has his hands on Derek they start to roam on their own accord, when he gets to Derek’s nipples the other boy lifts his wrist and fits his mouth over it, “Fuck, _Derek._ ” Stiles says a little more urgently and Derek nods and lifts his hips this time and shimmies his pants down further.

When Stiles goes to drag his underwear down Derek’s hands bat him away, “I am not putting my bare ass on these fucking seats Stiles.” And he has to slap a hand over his mouth from crying out (whatever Derek, not the same thing you were talking about) because he sounds so _grumpy_ Stiles can’t handle it.  “Shut it and come over here.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, but takes his hand way after getting his giggles under control, and cups Derek’s face.  He knows he looks too sentimental, they’re on a goddamn bus for Christ sake, but Derek’s looking at him with an equally mushy expression and he can’t just do nothing, so he leans down slowly and brings his lips to Derek’s.

It’s a fucking amazing kiss, he has no other comparison (except for the time when him and Scott were five and the one time where he was having a panic attack and Lydia calmed him down by almost biting through his lips, it worked but at what cost he had said which made her flick him on the forehead fondly (It was actually pretty amazing but at the time he’d been over her for a couple of years and well there was another more surly werewolf he was after) but he knows for sure that that was the kind of kiss people talk about in Autobiographies and romance novels. 

They kiss for a while longer before his lips start to chap, he pulls away, a string of spit connecting them which he ignores after swiping away at it, “I’m gonna suck your dick.” He says finally after they catch their collective breathes.

Derek makes a stunned sound, sorta like he got shot (which Stiles knows what it actually sounds like, and no, bad comparison) and gets out, “Wha-?” before Stiles is sinking to his knees and griping Derek by the thighs.

“Just, make sure I don’t die if Frank suddenly stops, yeah?” he says and Derek’s only just done nodding before Stiles pulls his dick out, “Jesus fucking Christ, you’re kinda big, I might not-“ but Derek’s already shaking his head

“It’s fine, really I wouldn’t- it’s your first time- mine to, so I’ll probably be like five second.” He says and Stiles stunned because-

“First time?” he says and he’s looking at Derek but he’s opening the packet carefully, “I mean, I understand me but come on, you’re like fucking beautiful I’d imagine…” and then he buries his nose onto the cloth of Derek’s jeans.  This is so fucking embarrassing, why can’t this just-

A soft hand is threading through his hair, pulling gently up and he goes without complaint, “Don’t talk about yourself like that, and I never really- you were always the- I can’t- not for just anybody.” And now Derek looks embarrassed, feeling like a dick, and not caring about his already hurting knees, Stiles braces his arms on each side of Derek’s legs and surges up, kissing the other boy before he does something stupid like confess his love or something.

“I’ve been in love with you for ten years, ever since you gave me a green feather when they were making us do those racist thanksgiving head bands.”

Well shit.

Thinking he’s fucked it up, because Derek looks a bit frozen, in a bad way, Stiles moves his body away, willing to literally lie across Jackson, Greenburg, and Finstock (because he knows those three aren’t have sex and- oh gross now he’s thinking about it and no, just no.) in order to get away from Derek, but two hands come up and Derek’s holding him to his body like if he doesn’t tether Stiles to him he’s going to float away or something equally as dumb.

Stiles is _100%_ okay with the tethering bit, and the never leaving part that comes along with it (Stiles still has half a mind to _not_ say this out loud).

“Do you- Really?” Derek sounds incredulous which no.

“Oh god, yeah.  You?” and now he kind of understands how Derek’s feeling because asking someone if they love you is like torture

“Yeah, fuck, Stiles _of course I do._ ” And he says it like Stiles knew all along that Derek fucking Hale was in love with him, like everyone knew.  Well, Erica didn’t look super surprised, Scott always looked ready to beat someone with a book whenever Stiles went up to talk to Derek and came back embarrassed and flushed (he always assumed it was because Scott was done with his pinning but maybe it was because _Derek_ was being dumb), and Cora called him stupid so many times for no, apparent, reason that Stiles is staring to believe her because Derek’s looking at him with so much _love_ he kind of can’t breathe.

He’s kissing Derek again before he knows it, and knowing Derek loves him _back,_ well it makes the whole experience so much better.

“Fuck, Derek- I think I promised you something.” Stiles says, and it’s fucking cheesy and dumb but Derek groans like it’s the sexiest thing Stiles could have possibly said.

“Fuck, yeah- if you wanna.”

“I wanna.” Stiles repeats and sinks to his knees for a second time, condom already open.

He slips it on, trying to go slow, not wanting to mess up (he knows how to do it, done it on so many bananas he could cry, and his dad would be there along with him even if _he_ was the one that made Stiles do it, his dads a safe sex advocate and well, it extended to inside his house as well).

Derek’s wrist is in his mouth again and Stiles wonders how different it is to have someone else’s hands on your dick.

Fuck, now he’s think of Derek jerking off.

“Fuck.” The word slips out of his mouth, kind of (ok really) breathy, and he’s not even thinking about where he is (that’s a lie, but it’s not what he meant) until all of a sudden Derek kind of twitches and makes a high pitched sound in the back of his throat.  The hand that’s currently not in his mouth comes to the side of Stiles head and pushes lightly but urgently, a silent _please carry the fuck on or I’m going to die._  

“Yeah, shit, sorry, let me just-“ he grabs the lube and pops the cap open, he squirts some into his hand and rubs it against his fingers.  When he thinks it’s warmed up sufficiently, which doesn’t take a while because it’s been in Derek’s pocket, he makes a loose fist around Derek’s dick.

It’s a little awkward because he’s not really getting anything physical out of it and his hand is use to turning the other way, but Derek’s kind of fucking up into his fist with short little jerks and Stiles’ mouth is watering.

Fuck he just-

“Shit.” Derek’s wrist is out of his mouth and he’s now speaking through gritted teeth as usual, but his pupils are blown when Stiles looks up from where he’s kind of trying to swallow all of Derek’s dick, he can’t really go more than a little than half ways down but he uses his already slick hand, trying to make up a rhythm to go along with his mouth.

Derek was worried about coming fast but Stiles is going to come from the _sight_ of him- Jesus if Derek doesn’t hurry up and come already-

“Fuck Stiles, I- Fuck, you gotta-“ and he’s pushing at Stiles head, and he moves but only that the tip is still in his mouth.  He takes the condom off because _fuck it_ he want's to  _taste_ Derek, he swirls his tongue around a couple of times, hollows his cheeks or whatever pornstars do, before Derek’s hand is going slack and he’s mumbling, “Fuck- Shit, fuck- _Stiles.”_ And he’s coming down Stiles throat.

Stiles for his part, tries his best, but this being the first blow job he’s ever given Derek’s come kind of ends up all over his face, only half of it ending up in his mouth.

There’s a few seconds of stunned _oh fuck, I just came down someone’s throat_ and or _oh man, someone just came down my throat,_ before Derek’s dragging Stiles back up and kissing the hell out of him.

Derek pulls back first, “As much as I love kissing you, I think we better clean your face up, you have like, jizz in your eyebrows.” He snorts and Stiles punches him in the arm, softly.

“And whose fault is that?  Also who says jizz anymore, what are you, fourteen?” and he laughs this time but Derek’s looking troubled by something, “What?  Is there something on my- oh wait, there is- oh fuck it’s drying- I really need a- Ow! Holy shit-!” Something hits him in the side of the head and he only has _this_ much self-preservation to not turn around, he simply bends down to pick up the packet of wet wipes from the floor.  He knows he’s not imagining things when he hears Jackson sigh and let out _would’ve been good blackmail._

He’s suddenly remembering why he and Lydia used to date.

He shudders, he thanks whatever lucky stars he has that that particular _relationship_ ended in middle school. 

He’s wiping his face with the wet wipes, spending extra time on his eyebrows, and turns to Derek for the vitric but finds him wearing the same face, one of bashfulness and determination.

“Now what?” Is there really something on his face or-

“It’s just,” Derek sighs and runs a hand over his mouth, “I really wanna- I-“ and he stops before dragging a hand down Stiles torso and stopping right above his dick. 

Which is still 75% hard.

Fuck, now that he’s thinking about it it’s really uncomfortable because his zipper is half undone so it’s _digging in painfully-_

Yeah- that’s- that’s going to be a problem.

“By all means.” Stiles says but Derek just looks frustrated

“I want to, it’s just-“ and he jerks his head, indicating the whole bus and when Stiles turns around every pair except for the non-super hearing individuals (which are like five people including him) are sitting up straight and looking super uncomfortable and oh man-

Oh _man._

“Are you telling me I have to sit on your lap with a hard on for,” he checks his watch, “three and a half hours and _do nothing about it.”_ He can see Scott, since he hasn’t turned away from the rest of the bus yet, twitch in either discomfort or sympathy, or both, knowing Scott.

“Scott.” He hisses and said boy turns around quickly and makes eye contact with him.

He has his second silent conversation today with Scott.

_Stop the bus._

_How?_

_Look who’s sitting in front of you._

_Greenburg?_

_No._

_Jackson?_

_No, dumbass._

_Finstock?  Why?_

_Because he’s a sympathetic vomiter_

_A what?_

_He vomits when he sees other people vomiting._

_That would mean someone would have to vomit if they wanted to make him vomit._

_Yes, Scott_

_You want me to vomit in front of him don’t you?_

_Yes, Scott_

_But Allison._

_She’ll think you’re sick and she’ll take care of you._

_I don’t know about this…_

“Scott you owe me.” He hisses again and Scott just looks at him with a sad frown, “Nope not gonna work this time bro.” which just makes Scott sigh heavily before getting up and stumbling the last couple of steps towards the front of the bus.

If he has to pick one thing he loves about Scott, which is a lot, it’s that he’s always been the most convincing actor.

The boy looks like he’s going to faint.

“Sir…”

“McCall why are you- wait, why do you look so-”

“Sir I think-“

“No- McCall leave- turn the other way- McCall!”

There’s a thunk when Scott keels over, hiding his head so Coach can’t see when he shoves a finger up his mouth.

He’s going to get the kid so much ice cream, and he’s going to listen to him talk about Allison for like a week.

Speaking of Allison, “Oh my god, Scott you were feeling fine a second ago, are you okay?” See Scott, he wants to say, Allison’s going to fret and worry and you’re going to live in a beautifully done Jane Austen sick ‘oh-no-I’m- _cough_ -fine _-cough’_ scene for the rest of your life. 

You so owe me Scott, he wants to say as Finstock screams for Frank to pull over.

They end up at a creepy motel.

Some crazy motel-owning witch decides that she doesn’t like werewolves anymore and tries to kill them.

Finally, Stiles and Cora switch, and he thinks he sees her and Allison switch, which yeah, he understands Allison so he lets it go, but a few minutes after Stiles greets Derek enthusiastically he gets this pinched look on his face.

“What?  What’s up?”

“It’s just-“ he’s twitching and he covers his ears, looking, wow- looking ready to stuff wolfs bane down his throat (Stiles has also seen that happen), “I can hear her and Lydia and- oh god this is so fucking gross I’m going to throw up.”

It takes a few seconds for Stiles to piece it together but when he does, “Oh my god Lydia and Cora are fucking!” he shouts and he swears the whole fucking motel stops, even the tied up witch in the backroom. 

Derek claps a hand over his eyes, “At least you stopped them.” He says, grinning at him helplessly which fades as quickly as it came, “Fucking Cora-“ a pause, “Oh shut the fuck- ew oh god stop-“ Derek starts pacing the room holding his hands to his ears and Stiles tries to distract him-

In the not sexy kind of way.

“Stiles!  Get off my back- n-no not the ribs, Stiles- I swear to-“

“See, now can you hear them?”

“Yes I can still hear them!  S-stop tickling me- I will _kick you-_ “

“Well if this isn’t working I guess I have to try something else.“ Stiles say from above Derek, where they landed on the floor because Derek is the unmovable object only when he can see the unstoppable force coming (ha!).  There’s a second where Stiles just looks at Derek and he knows Derek’s going to start twitching but he doesn’t even know how this happened (the biggest lie he’s ever told, bigger than the werewolf thing) but he’s sure as fucking hell glad that it’s happening (The biggest truth he’s ever said).

“What?”

“Nothing- just, love you, you know that- but I just, I really love saying it.” And Derek’s face gets all happy and gooey and it’s such a contrast from what he usually sees, the gloomy adorable grump, his breath leaves his lungs in a giant exhale of emotion ( _giant exhale of emotion_ , what the fuck does that even mean- the minute he gets in a relationship he becomes a romance novelist).

“I love you too.” And they sit there looking at each other (oh god they really are a romance novel, he fucking loves it) until Stiles whips off his shirt and puts Derek’s hands on his sides and he grinds down onto Derek’s lap.

“You got anymore condoms?  Thinking maybe it’s time you repay the favour from earlier today.”

“Yeah,” Derek says, face still mushy (with _love_ ) but there’s heat in his eyes _(_ and his pants), “I think I will, let me just- Shut UP SCOTT AND PUT SOME HEADPHONES IN I DON’T CARE- why are you laughing? Stiles- What? Why-?”       

**Author's Note:**

> i have no time to edit this because im like stuck (ok im vacationing) in serbia and this particular part of serbia doesn't have wifi... well we aren't paying for it and i literally have to type sideways to get a stolen signal but its all for the greater good (and porn, i was missing porn so i wrote my own)
> 
> *Edit: I just realized that Derek has like a condom on but still comes down Stiles throat/on his face? 
> 
> My tumblr is a-small-jewel-shard.tumblr.com go check it out for updates and stuff
> 
> Yeah, I fixed that.
> 
> (Did you see the pun in the tags? Get it? Ha)


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